Moonspawn

by Bruce McLachlan

  Kira swayed, her tears still flowing, the position growing uncomfortable, her back aching from being kept folded thus.

  ‘I will now leave you to dwell on these lessons,’ stated the woman, replacing the cane and putting the short stub of the cigar in her teeth.

  With a snap of her fingers she summoned the girl to follow, and sidled equably from the room, her face broad with merriment, her desire to cause pain one that brought her the most profound satisfaction in her work.

  With a final glance across the elegant rubber anatomy of the woman who had trained her, and the naked shaven rear of the crawling girl, Kira was left to isolation.

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  Chapter Eight

  The belt continued to build her towards climax, the loss of dissuading outside stimuli having her devoting her mind to it, filling her thoughts with lecherous dreams about Cassandra.

  As she hung on the edge of relief, awaiting the sudden stop that would only feed her angst, the belt turned from a beloved though irritating companion, to a far more mordant comrade.

  Sudden flicking shocks started to apply their voltage teeth to her womb and anus, scratching at her clitoris with painful jolts. Squeaking in distress, she winced as the sporadic gnaw of the belt was fired into her loins, making her jerk and cry out as she was ruthlessly and efficiently chastised. The electrical discipline shoved her back away from release at a fervid rate, and once sufficiently calmed by the abuse, the shocks gave way to thrumming bliss once more.

  Kira struggled against her bonds, unable to discern what she should do. She wanted to get out, to break free, the prospect of being continually subjected to delectable caresses and then savaging shocks was too much for her to cope with.

  Again she was drawn to the brink of release, and again the electrical flashes were sent careering through her most sensitive areas, making her squeal in abject dismay as she was subjected to this terrible maltreatment.

  The unrelenting ordeal left her little option but to focus 107

  on her lessons, for it was the only and best way to distract herself, to avoid dwelling on the eventual fate as the belt built her towards climax once more, the offer of orgasm a cruel joke, the relief actually being hidden sexual mayhem.

  Werewolves, wizards… it all sounded so ridiculous.

  Yet here she was, a slave of vampires, a vampire herself.

  And if they fed on the soul of their victims via the flesh, did that not prove that the soul was real? And in this case, was there not an afterlife too? Such a confirmation of something so intangible and spiritual was frightening, more so for the truth that she would never access it. She would exist forever, unable to die. Even when her flesh was destroyed she would simply be awaiting a time when blood splashed her remains and started the process of recovery. But where would she dwell during this period?

  Would she just cease to be? Would it be like going in for surgery; one minute she closed her eyes, the next she opens them as though no time had elapsed? Or would she dwell in limbo, aware, deprived of form, a ghost?

  For hours she was fed through the opposing trials of the belt, each one ferrying her to and from orgasm with regular and unwavering devotion. Hanging in her bondage, it seemed like an eternity before her teacher strode back in. Shaking in turmoil as the belt built her towards another dose of shocks, she prayed that the woman would release her before the punitive session started again.

  The woman was still in her red attire, and this time she held a crop and the leash once more, and the leash was not left idle. A girl of Japanese heritage, her dark hair hanging about her as a sable curtain, was being led forth into the room. She was like a miniature female, her curves 108

  soft and inviting, her breasts barely a handful but succulent to the eyes, and around her was a cloak of submissiveness, inviting others to bind her and use her for their pleasure.

  Their tutor let the door close and then removed the gag from Kira’s lips, drawing the wet ball free.

  ‘Has my slave been learning her lessons?’ she quizzed, cupping Kira’s chin and lifting, making her neck ache as she strained to behold her tormentor.

  ‘Yes, Lady Strafe,’ she replied, recalling the title she was supposed to use for any of loftier stature than herself.

  ‘I can see those hungry eyes looking over this nubile little flower. I bet you would love to taste her, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, Lady Strafe,’ she replied eagerly, squirming against the rubber as the girl caught her licentious stare in the mirrors, the chastity belt bringing her ever closer to another session of abuse.

  ‘Would you like to give her some compensation before she starts her sentence?’ offered the woman, pulling out the cable attached to Kira’s loins, making her sigh with relief as the belt continued, filling her with prurient lust, but promising no more of the baleful shocks.

  ‘Yes, Lady Strafe, yes I would,’ she whimpered, her toes jiggling in their bonds as the automated masturbation continued unabated.

  ‘There will be no relief for you, though,’ revealed the woman, drawing in the leash to bring the girl closer. ‘This is merely an act of generosity on my part.’

  Kira looked up across her supple frame, the slave girl looking down at her with expectation but also worry, for she seemed to sense that she would soon be bound in the configuration Kira now displayed.

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  ‘Well, get going then, slave,’ the woman grumbled, and swatted the crop first across the girl’s rear to make her yelp, and then down onto Kira’s.

  The slave moved forward and presented herself to Kira’s features. Slipping a hand under Kira’s chin, she helped the bound captive keep her head up, and allow her tongue a chance to find its quarry.

  Bathed in the glow of the belt, Kira eagerly started to lap, reaching in and adoring the girl’s clitoris, teasing it with small circles of motion and then flicking at it, sometimes sucking to heighten the sensations, and then returning to applying slobbering laps upon it. On occasion she simply launched her tongue as deep as it would go, to make the girl stiffen and her small hands grip more sternly to Kira’s face.

  All the while their overseer watched casually, occasionally throwing a swipe of her crop into the buttocks of either girl. Just as she was chastised by the riding implement, so too was Kira punished by her belt, the arousal of this deed, of servicing another woman under the merciless gaze of their gorgeous tyrant, it made the belt carry her all too swiftly to the brink before deserting her.

  With such intense eroticism played before her, the device could only give her the most short-lived excursions into pleasure, her state of titillation being such that she was only a short jaunt from the point where she was deemed too close to relief to warrant more attention.

  As the cunnilingus continued and Kira made the latex prison groan to hold her as she squirmed, their tormentor spoke to her, continuing with her education as was relevant.

  ‘She’s a delicate little thing, destined to replace you 110

  here. She’ll suffer terribly too, because she’s only a ghoul.

  That means her vampire owners feed her their blood. It makes her tough, resilient, and stops her ageing, but she can perish just as easily as any other mortal. If she serves well, if she pleases them, they might give her the Malefic Kiss, but then again, they might not. She’s at least a century old, so if they withdraw their sustenance she’ll age overnight.’ Her words were followed by the swift sharp crack of the crop crossing the backs of the girl’s thighs, making her stiffen and then sag slightly.

  ‘She’s still warm, she still lives, and that means she will be sweltering in this rubber prison,’ she revealed, and gave Kira a harsh lick of the implement. ‘Her body will ache, her senses swim. You should count yourself fortunate you are not in her position.

  ‘But that is the fate her masters have decreed,’ she stated, twirling the weapon around her fingers. ‘The queen is entertaining one of the Japanese vampire clans, and so this poor little creature has been handed over to our care for
the duration.’

  The girl started to gasp and moan, her legs jerking to attention, her head lolling back. Soft choked cries started to slip her lips as Kira kept her rhythm steady and precise, bringing the slave to the point Kira was forever being thrown to but never beyond.

  ‘Ah, here we go,’ purred the woman, watching the show with glee. ‘This is my favourite bit.’

  With a series of stifled cries the girl started to shake and shiver, the pleasure rippling through her, making her fight to stay still, the effects almost too much for her to endure.

  Her sounds of joy started to subside and she started to go lax upon Kira’s tongue before withdrawing, clutching 111

  her tender stomach and looking to Kira with the most profound gratitude.

  ‘You did well, slave,’ said the woman, patting Kira’s head and then starting the process of removing her from the bonds.

  The girl just stood and watched, recovering from her session, leaving Kira envious that she herself could not taste of such forbidden passions.

  The last of her latex prison was removed, and with equal rough attention, their ruler began to force the slender frame of the girl into it. She whimpered softly, the faint mewls a delicate sound as she was bound and strung up, her naked loins hanging in the air.

  But instead of attaching the chain to her jacket, the woman instead forced a black bulb into her rear, making the girl sob with distress from its introduction, and with wide eyes she fixed her stare to Kira. Did she want help?

  Salvation? Or was she just envious of Kira for her freedom or her full vampire status?

  The sac was crammed in and a nozzle applied. Their teacher starting to inflate the orb, expanding it until it refused to be easily dislodged, its diameter more than her sphincter could comfortably inflict on itself.

  As Kira could have foreseen, the chain was snapped to the base of the plug, holding her up, making any act of wilting churn her rear with new mayhem.

  ‘There, all done,’ she said, and transferred the leash from the girl to Kira before leading her out. ‘Now come with me, slave. We have a new lesson for you.’

  The hall remained unchanged, and Kira was led across it to a door on the opposite side. Once more her identification was scanned in to mark her as its resident, but she was not alone; two others were already here, 112

  their existence marked by two other symbols on the LCD.

  The heavy door started to shuffle aside, letting pitiful groans of travail seep forth with the warm scent of burning.

  The long room bore three engines of restraint. The padded slabs were set atop cupboards to elevate them, the soft tables arming their base with unknown devices for the additional torment of the prisoner riding it. About the edge were sturdy ringlets, and these were used to grasp at the two other people already in residence here.

  Both were fastened down in the same manner; their wrist cuffs were lifted to the uppermost corners after their arms were crossed, causing their limbs to grip their heads.

  Their ankle shackles were snapped to each end of the table, splaying their legs a little way apart. Both slaves had their jaws stretched wide into an impossible frozen scream by the application of a ring gag, the leather hoop flinging out slender straps that sealed around the back of their head to prevent them spitting out the brutal implement of silence. Into this enforced portal to their maw, a candle of exact fit had been slotted, making the slaves fight to keep still lest they spill the molten pool above their lips.

  Another candle had been fastened between their legs, pressing against their crotch, again promising harsh chastisement should their squirming agitate the hot reservoir that loitered within the crater of the wick.

  A third much larger midnight candle had been fitted with a chain and a clip halfway down its length, the links suspending the waxen rod over their bodies. The base of the candle had a hook screwed into it, upon which weights had been laced to lift the head of the candle, easing the rate at which it dripped down onto the hapless prisoner.

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  The candles continued to burn sedately, the wicks the only light in this entire room, making it swarm with consuming depths all about the floor, the six twinkling stars doing little to provide decent illumination. The steady fall of drops almost had the precision of a metronome, each landing making the slave below shake and struggle, the results offering more of their anatomy up to the mordant drizzle. It was clearly impossible to stay still, for panicked response occurred whenever the candles of loin or mouth overflowed their slim banks, sending a burning trickle down the sides and onto the skin of the oppressed slave.

  The nearest table had a tall amazon woman, her body wiry, her blonde hair cropped short to a carpet of stubble.

  Her nipples, clit, and nose had been pierced, as had her ears, all the hoops fitted in her flesh being thick and dense, without visible seam, making Kira suspect that they were locked to her and could not be removed. Cords snaked off the edge of the table, holding to her nipple rings so that they might dangle a weight in the air, stretching at the points, making any struggle add punishment. The same method of racking was employed for her ears, the cords pulling at the delicate lobes, serving further to keep her head down and subdued.

  Already her belly and ribs were coated with numerous frozen splashes, the waxen splatters clutching to her and occasionally cracking as her belly rose and fell with sobbing gasps. The other candles had sent numerous testing trails down the sides, reaching relentlessly towards her skin, making it only a matter of time before she was afflicted, no matter how still she kept herself.

  The other slave was male. Young and slender of limb, his hairless body shuddered under the continuing burden 114

  of duress placed upon it. He had clearly been here for some time. His mop of thin white hair was damp from sweat, his body laced with glistening beads of perspiration that winked in the candlelight like gems.

  The candle in his maw had painted his cheeks, jaw and chin with a layer of wax, and his chest and belly were encrusted with a dense coating of accumulated rain. His penis had been attached to the length of the candle with cord, the organ standing upright against it, hugged to it by garrotting crosses of leather thonging. His shaft was similarly painted with the waxen sheet, the falling lines having rolled along it and enveloped it before spattering his parted testicles and loins. Obviously a ghoul, he was suffering more than the girl, whose hint of pronounced incisors betrayed her full vampire status.

  ‘Get up on the table, slave,’ commanded the woman, drawing Kira to the surface and flicking her hand to the crotch candle of the woman, sending a sudden splash across her inner thighs. The woman squawked, shaking the candles more, bringing several drips to her cheeks and more to the lips of her sex as they lay parted and shivering against the candle. The trainer chuckled and continued to push Kira to her fate.

  Stepping up, Kira crawled onto the raised flat surface, the leather giving slightly under her hands and knees as she turned over and settled into place.

  The woman took hold of her hands and raised them, crossing the slender appendages before offering them to the locks at the head of Kira’s tormenting bed.

  With her wrist cuffs secured, she lay resigned as her legs were drawn apart and caught by the anchors at the end, sealing her to the bed and stopping any hope of getting free.

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  The woman reached under, opened a drawer and removed a ring gag, presenting the instrument to Kira’s lips.

  ‘Open wide, slave,’ she ordered, and smiled knowingly as Kira closed her eyes and stretched her jaws to accept it.

  The buckle was pulled tight, stopping up her maw and then the candle was slotted in, the heavy shaft resting deep in her throat, her tongue too weak to expel it. Licking around she traced its circumference as best she could, opening her eyes and looking up the tall black tower sprouting from her lips like some monstrous cylindrical tongue of bleak coloured wax.

  ‘I can see why the queen was so intrigued by you,’ the woman purred, wal
king back down the length of the table, tracing her hand down Kira’s naked body, letting her fingers drift through her cleavage and then across her belly and over the chastity belt.

  ‘Such a terrible fate,’ she commented, as she let her hand wander upon the device. ‘I’ve had this myself a few times. Nothing makes you more eager to please than lengthy abstinence. But we have other matters to occupy us here, slave, such as where to put this other candle.

  These hungry loins have been denied, so we’ll have to improvise,’ she added, removing another pair of large candles and some thin latex straps.

  With casual roughness, the woman started to strap the candles along the soles of Kira’s feet, forcing her to keep them pointed up and to attention lest the candles dip. To stop her from tilting them the wrong way and sparing herself the wax, leather thongs snagged her big toes, the grip reaching back along her body and connecting to the straps of her gag. Thus with any tug of her feet towards 116

  the floor, she might spare her feet, but she was sure to punish her chin and neck.

  With wide imploring eyes Kira studied the woman as her latex skin seemed to ripple in the gloom, her features marked with a sneer of amusement. Taking a Zippo, she flicked her hand and opened the metal shell, and with a second flick a flame jumped into radiant life, a few sparks from its ignition dancing in the small fire.